A Delayed Journey, a Pokémon Coming of Age Story
by Nee339
Summary: Not all pokémon journeys start the same. Some trainers are more prepared than others. One shot.


**A Delayed Journey, a Pokémon Coming of Age Story**

By Nee339

**Summary:** Not all pokémon journeys start the same. Some trainers are more prepared than others. One shot.

**Author's Notes:** This idea has been bothering me for a while. I thought I'd write it real quick and then see what you all think. I hope you enjoy.

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When I was 8 years old, my family couldn't afford to send me to a Pokémon Training Academy (PTA). Therefore, my father took it upon himself to teach me the specifics of pokémon training when he had the time, in between working full time, running a pokémon breeding program, and participating in the periodic tournaments that happened to be close to home.

Out of all of my siblings, I had been chosen by my father to become a pokémon trainer because I was his oldest child and his only son. Quite frankly, it was a relief to get out of the house and away from my mother and three younger sisters. The cattiness of the female portion of my family often grated on my nerves and so, I looked forward to my lessons about pokémon and, in turn, my father enjoyed teaching me.

These lessons continued for two years, wherein my father and I would walk the forests and grasslands surrounding or home, just north of Route 29 in Johto.

It was on my tenth birthday when my father told me that his arcanine had covered a ditto, and so now, he had a growlithe egg he was going to give to me, as a birthday gift. As excited as I was by this news, it was what he said immediately afterwards that made him my hero.

He said, "Danny, I talked with Professor Elm in New Bark Town last week and I offered to trade him a growlithe egg for one of the starter pokémon he gives out every year to the kids that come out of the PTA and he accepted my offer."

Eyes wide with astonishment, I listened as my father explained to me about how he had finagled a way for me to receive one of Professor Elm's pricy PTA starter pokémon. There was a reason that only the children enrolled in the PTA program received such rare and valuable pokémon for their teams, and it was because they had ultimately paid for them with their school's tuition payments.

In essence, my father had just told me that I would be starting my pokémon journey with two highly prized animals heading my first team, instead of the sentret, hoppip, and pidgey team that I had expected. I was flabbergasted. What more could a 10-year-old-boy want?

However, I soon learned that there were conditions to my father gifting me with these two valuable pokémon, and they were, as follows:

First, I was to stay at home and train these pokémon with the help and supervision of my father until he was confident that I could both control these animals and properly take care of them, because he hadn't gone through all that trouble to get them, just for me to ruin them by having them over-specialize or by turning them into glorified pets.

Second, I was to construct my pokémon team along very strict guidelines and not race out into the world to "catch them all" because, 01) we didn't have the space to house every type of pokémon in existence, and 02) we didn't have the money to support all of their various dietary requirements.

Third, any pokémon I trained for my team would be expected to contribute to my father's pokémon breeding business.

Lastly, all money I made in tournaments and casual battles would promptly be sent home to help support the family, except for the amount needed to sustain myself while on the road. My sisters were growing up and, although they were not interested in pokémon battles, they were interested in pokémon pageants and that cost big money. Since they were family, I was expected to help finance their interests, even if it was only a few poke dollars at a time.

Once he was finished talking, I looked up at my father with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal in my eyes. To go from my Happy Birthday-daydreams of totodiles and growlithes to this unflattering reality hurt and embarrassed me. The other kids would be able to leave on their journeys once they got their trainer cards and starting pokémon, and the fact that my father had found a way to trap me at home was just not fair.

I was two seconds away from throwing a fit, when my father placed both of his hands on my shoulders and said, "Come now Danny, this is a good thing. This is an opportunity for you and me, so that when you start collecting badges, you won't also be learning how to train a pokémon at the same time as you're getting them ready for gym battles. And, we'll be able to build your first team together, so you'll definitely be ready when you leave home. Most new trainers wish for this kind of help. I know I did and, if your grandfather had known the first thing about pokémon, you can bet your last dollar that he would have done the exact same thing for me as I am going to do for you."

Still feeling mutinous, I said in response, "I don't want to. It's not fair. I got my card. I should be able to leave whenever I want, not stay here and do chores."

My father looked at me and I could see that he was disappointed. I had said something stupid and selfish and I felt that I had unintentionally just proved my father's point. This just made me angrier, like I had been tricked again into feeling even worse than before. Furthermore, it was still my birthday and, though my father had promised me two pokémon for my team, I had yet to see either one of them.

This realization made me say my second stupid thing of the day. I said, "Where's my egg? I want it."

My father shook his head and said, "No Danny. I'm not going to give it to you when you're this angry. Pokémon are very vulnerable when they're still growing in the egg and I won't have your attitude hurt growlithe because you're mad at me."

With my anger still burning hot, I spit out, "What about the pokémon you traded for? Where is it? It's not in an egg, is it? You promised!"

"I have his pokéball right here, but I'm not going to give him to you yet. He's still an infant and I don't want you to hurt him either," my father said, becoming angry too, no longer even attempting to appear calm and understanding.

This was just another insult to my already bruised ego, so I wrenched away from my father's hands, yelled out, "You're a liar! This isn't fair," and I ran out of the house and into the fields beyond.

My father didn't follow me, which was probably a good thing. I was feeling like my journey had been unfairly stolen from me. All that work I had put into helping with my father's arcanine and his stupid harem of amorphous dittos meant that I deserved my journey. It was my right as a trainer!

I deserved to travel with my friends and show off my two cool pokémon to their measly one. Just this once, I deserved to be better than them and not the only boy in the New Bark area that hadn't been able to go to the Pokémon Training Academy.

It wasn't fair. Those kids were my friends. We had grown up together, and in the next few days, they'd be leaving me behind to have cool adventures with their new pokémon. It didn't matter that my dad was going to help me with training my team, because I wasn't mad about the training, it was about the experiences that my friends were going to be having without me.

I was going to be the dork that left months or years later, did the rounds at the gym, but no one cared about because I was alone and no one knew who I was. Ethan, Kyra, and Kris knew me, but they would be so far ahead of me it would no longer matter.

Disheartened, I sat down against a tree and started digging in the soil. I'd created quite a nice hole for myself when I heard a "whoosh-whoosh-whoosh" sound overhead. I looked up, and there, helicoptering above me, was a hoppip with a bulbous pink body and two green rotary leaves lazily spinning on top.

I watched it for a while and it watched me in return. I stood up and reached for it. Without seeming to make any effort, the hoppip rose above my hand, so that I could not touch it.

"Fine, be that way," I said, grumpily, as I turned away from the pokémon and walked back to the house.

As I came over a rise, I could see that my father was standing over the fire-pit, grilling meat for our family's dinner. He saw me walking back and, when I was close enough to hear, he said, "Danny, sit down. We need to make a decision about this."

"About what?" I asked as I sat in a lawn chair to watch my father cook. I could hear my sisters chattering in the background, talking about stupid little girl things that I cared nothing about.

"About whether or not you want my help with your pokémon," he said, careful not to look at me. I immediately noticed this weird behavior, because my father had always been a very direct and honest man. With him avoiding eye-contact, I realized that I had actually hurt his feelings when I had run out of the house earlier.

After a minute of feeling bad about myself, I ducked my chin and said to my chest, "I want your help."

My father sighed and sat down in a lawn chair of his own, and asked, sadly, "Do you even understand what you're walking into, going on a pokémon journey when you're 10?"

"Yeah, I do," I answered, because what was I supposed to say? It was a stupid question.

Apparently, my father didn't think so, because he said, "I don't think you do. I think you're still a just kid, card or not, and letting kids run around by themselves with dangerous creatures barely contained in pokéballs is how people get hurt, even killed. You're my son, Danny, and I don't want that happening to you."

Aggravated, I said, "But it won't. I'll be a good trainer and nothing will hurt me."

With a sad smile, my father shook his head, and said, "That's where you're wrong. Being a trainer is all about being hurt and tired and always on your guard. It never stops, not even when you're battling for badges. Do you want your first pokémon to die because you're too inexperienced to pull them out of battle before they take a fatal hit? It's happened before, Danny. It's happened to me. I know what I'm talking about here."

With the mention of the taboo subject of dead pokémon out in the air, I had nothing to say in response. I never had a fighting pokémon of my own. I had helped out with my father's pokémon, but that was all. Most of his were the six he collected his badges with and then his five dittos he kept for his pokémon breeding program.

Finally, I said, "I don't want my pokémon to die."

Nodding, my father said, "That's right, you don't. There's nothing worse than to know you caused your pokémon to die or be crippled because you made an accident. I just want to make sure that you and your team are really ready before I send you out into the world. This isn't a game, Danny, and I hate how our government just treats pokémon journeys like they're extended camping trips, because they're not. They're serious business and I won't send you out there just for you to get caught up in something you're not prepared to handle."

Sighing gustily, I said, "Fine. I'll stay."

It was quiet for a while, as my father finished cooking the meat, and I just sat there, thinking. When my father sat down again, I asked, "Would it have been different if I had gone to the PTA with Ethan?"

"Probably not," my dad said, with a thoughtful expression on his face. "They don't teach much there that I haven't taught you already, so you're not missing anything. Really, son, it's all about the Pokémon League making money off you clueless kids, like how they sell you overpriced pokéballs, but never bother to teach you how to make your own balls out of apricorns that work just as good, if not better, than most of the mass produced stuff in their marts. Truthfully, very little of the Pokémon League is really about raising and training pokémon, like they want you to believe."

"Then why did you want me to become a pokémon trainer?" I asked, exasperated.

"So you could work for me when you grow up, and so that you could inherit my business and land after I die. Without a complete set of badges, our family could lose everything, Danny. The government says that it's not safe for us to live outside of town with all the wild pokémon around, even though there's nothing larger than a sentret within miles of here. But that won't stop them from kicking us off the land and turning it into a housing development or something," explained my father, with a frustrated expression.

"Really? Why didn't you say that before?"

"Because you wouldn't have understood before."

"Oh," I said, my tone sad and bewildered. Before I could ask another question, my mother leaned out the doorway to the house and called us inside for dinner.

Inside, everyone sat around the dinner table, each with a healthy portion of miltank steak, potatoes, salad, and broccoli. Afterwards, everyone sang Happy Birthday to me, and had me blow out candles on a cake that we all ate while I opened presents full of useful items that I would have taken on a pokémon journey with me, had I been leaving the following day.

Once all the presents were opened and the dishes washed, my father finally handed me the pokéball with the traded pokémon inside. I had almost forgotten all about it and it was with a happy smile that I called out my very first pokémon, expecting to see a totodile or a cyndaquil because those where the two coolest pokémon out of the three possible choices for this region of PTA. Instead, out bounced a tiny chikorita, little leaf flapping about as it looked around its new surroundings.

I couldn't stop myself from pointing at the little pokémon, as I asked, "Why chikorita? Why not totodile?"

My dad laughed at me and knelt down beside the quivering green pokémon and gently petted it along its head and down its back. "Danny, come on. You have never raised a fighting pokémon before and the absolute last thing I'd want to partner you with, is a meat-eating pokémon that evolves into an eight-foot-feraligatr. I want you to live through your pokémon journey, not get eaten because you're easier to catch than a rattata."

Insulted, I said, "I would not get eaten. I'd keep it in its pokéball."

Grinning at my stupidity, my father said, "Shows what you know. That wouldn't work. The bigger pokémon grow, the more they need to be out of their pokéballs to move around and feed themselves. Pokéballs are only really used when you have to travel inside a building and can't let your pokémon stay outside by themselves. Otherwise, your pokémon want and need to be out of their balls most of the time or they'll get sick and weak and they won't be very good fighters."

I picked up chikorita and looked at him. He was surprisingly lightweight for his size and I said as much to my father. I also said, "He smells good, like perfume."

My father smiled and nodded. "The leaf on his head is his main sensory organ, and it lets out pheromones so that he can attract a mate. That's why it smells nice. The nicer the smell, the healthier the chikorita, and this one is very healthy. Even though he's so young, that chikorita could sire a whole chikorita-army on my dittos."

Taken aback, I looked up at my father and, for the first time that day, I finally understood the opportunity this little pokémon provided my family. No one knew where chikorita, bayleef, and meganium lived in the wild or where they went to breed. They were so rare and their birthrates so low, that it was pure luck to encounter one in the wild, especially one as young as my chikorita, because, with its coloring, chikoritas were nigh on invisible when running through the tall grass.

My father had picked the one pokémon that could, single handedly keep my family's breeding program in the black for the next couple decades. Even at its largest, meganium was an herbivore that, interestingly enough, could revive dead plants, which meant that it constantly ensured its own food source for itself and for all the little chikoritas and bayleefs running about.

With my enthusiasm for the little pokémon building in my chest, I leaned forward and said, "Can you imagine what he'll be like once he's a meganium. He'll be huge. I'll be able to ride him all over Johto. No walking for me. It'll be so cool." I turned my attention down to the pokémon in my arms, and continued, "Did you hear that, little guy? We're going to be awesome."

"Yeah you will," my dad said, reaching over to pet the chikorita, causing it to make warbling sounds of pleasure.

Leaning back from me and the chikorita, my father said, "I'm glad you can see his worth now, Danny, but don't forget about growlithe. He'll be right there with you the whole way, protecting you and warming you with his fire. He'll keep you two safe on your journey and, before you leave, we'll catch you a pidgey or a hoothoot to cover you from the sky. Then, all you'll need to do is find a psychic-type so that it can teleport you back home in a blink of an eye. Who knows, maybe we'll make a special trip to find a drowzee or an abra before we send you out to complete the circuit. But, can you see it yet, Danny? Can you see how much better off you'll be with a complete team at the beginning of your journey rather than at the end?"

I nodded my head. I could see it. I'd be older, but then, so would my pokémon, and all the cooler for it. There was no time-limit on getting badges, after all, so whether I left in a month or in a couple of years from now, it wouldn't matter. All I had to do was collect the badges and I didn't need Ethan there to see my triumphs and failures. I'd have my pokémon and, by that time, they'd be as close to me as family. Maybe, I'd even get a water pokémon – not a feraligatr – and surf over to Kanto and try to complete their circuit too. There was no need to rush right home. My father was healthy and he'd keep for few years more, at least.

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**Author's Notes:** It has always bothered me how young the pokémon trainers are in the games. Does no one take care of their children in that world? At 10, kids are barely responsible enough to take care of the family dog, let alone run around the world playing war games with super-powered animals. So this story is just one version of a responsible adult finally taking charge of their child before they go off to battle some crazy pokémon team hell-bent on taking over the world while wearing matching jumpsuits.

I doubt I'll continue with this story. So, it is a one-shot for now.

Please review with what you thought. Thank you for reading.


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